


The Good Doctor

by Kittenbedtimestories



Category: JSE, jacksepticeye, jse egos - Fandom
Genre: Graphic depictions of needles, Mentions of Death, graphic depictions of blood, graphic depictions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenbedtimestories/pseuds/Kittenbedtimestories
Summary: What happened after Say Goodbye.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 10





	The Good Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted on likepuppetsonastring.tumblr.com] TRIGGER WARNING FOR GORE AND NEEDLES!! Well, Anti made a reappearance, and now we have more lore. Specifically, about Schneeplestein! I was excited, so I thought I’d write a quick fic about the aftermath of Say Goodbye. Enjoy!

“Oh god…”  
Henrik jerked into motion, nearly barreling over the table as he fell into place beside Jack, dropping his medical bag open on the floor beside him. The blood, oh god, the blood, there was so much of it.  
Snapping himself out of his shock, he scrambled through the bag with one hand as the other desperately tried to stem the flow of blood from the deep gash in his old friend’s neck.  
“Where is it? Where is it?! Dammit…hold in there, Jack, just hold on…you don’t get to die on me, no, no, no, not on the watch of Dr. Schneeplestein!” He glanced over at Jack, with half a weak smile as he nearly anticipated the usual laugh and eye-roll he’d get whenever he was as grandiose as that. But there was nothing, no flicker of life from the cold form.  
He jerked the needle, thread, and towel free of the bag and began desperately trying to stitch Jack’s neck together and stop the blood at the same time. Where were his medicines to thicken blood? Where were his gauze and bandaging? Where was his antiseptic spray?

“DON’T YOU DIE ON ME!” Henrik’s panic was getting the best of him now. He was working quickly, sloppily. There were moments where he thought he missed time passing, his sight seeming to skip from one second to the next. He almost thought he was…twitching. Nerves, it must be nerves. Jack was dying, right there in front of him, and he wasn’t doing enough, he couldn’t do enough, it ͞wa͡s̢ ͝n̡ever͏ eno̕ug͢h.͠  
He doubled over, twitching once, violently. He thought he heard a high-pitched ringing. Looking at his shaking hands, he thought for a second he saw them go around Jack’s neck, as if to choke him. No, no that couldn’t be right. He blinked, gasping, and saw his hands, jerked up beside him, nowhere near Jack at all.  
No. No, he couldn’t lose it now. He couldn’t lose control now, Jack needed him. Get it together, Doctor!  
The ringing got louder, and under it, some noise. Some…pattern. High, cold, uneven…almost like a laugh. Henrik shook his head.

Ĝ͈ͥͥͨ́ͮ͒õ̳̰̣͕͔̼ͦ̄̓̾ȭ͎̩̦͓̱̣̟d̬̪̝͕͔̤̣͌̎ͪͩ ͙̞̜̜̱̜̽̿͛́ḍ̞̣͉̞̯͋͛ö͕̤̬͕͕͈ͬc̹̘͙͚̗̥͍̕t̶̰̯ͯ̓̊̇̋̓͌o̧͉̘͚̻͌̌̄̎͋͐r͍͕̗̼̤̯̹͋.̇͛̓͘.̺̖͖͈́ͧ͒ͣ.͔̩̼͓̗͙͙ͤ̇͐̚y̵̗͖̱̘̝̻ͣo̩̯̼̫̠͕̖ͣ̇ͩ́̔̇ͫú͔̳͇̥̪̞̦̾͊̇ ͖̹͎̆̂̑̇̏̍̕c̗̞͈̻ͭ͐̐̎̋̽̚oͨu͔͠l̊͛̾̉̌҉̥͈͎͎͓̩d̻͗̇̈ ͙̝̫͇͂̏ͪ̚b̸͐̿ͪe ̦͓̳̥̮͛͑͘f̻͇͔̱̘͕̊ͩ̑̅̓͆̓u̩n͓̚.̔̓̈́ͮͩͤ̚.̖͉ͭͩ.̪͇̖̗̀ͮ̒̉̆͛ͣͅ

“No. No, no, no,” he muttered, covering his ears with his hands. How could he be losing control at a time like this? He had never been prone to panic attacks, why now, of all times? Perhaps it was insanity? People had always said he was on the verge of it. He shook his head. No. He needed his mind clear to help Jack, he needed to stop the bleeding…the bleeding…

The bleeding had stopped. Henrik stared, uncomprehending.  
He checked for a pulse.  
There was no way…  
He felt one. Very, very faint, but present.  
Jack was alive.

Jack woke up, only hours later, and seemed to feel no ill effects, other than being a bit weak. He didn’t seem to even remember what had happened. When he asked the doctor, he couldn’t bring himself to tell, so instead, he made up some cock-and-bull story about pumpkin fumes knocking him out. It was a very weak reason, and clearly, Jack didn’t believe him, but he didn’t question it. Even when later, he looked in the mirror and saw the red stains on his neck. Even when he saw the blood on the carpet, and in the carved pumpkin he didn’t remember finishing.

Dr. Schneeplestein never mentioned the “panic attack”. He never talked about what had really happened. He never talked about the voice.

Neither of them wanted to think about what had done it…and how that thing was still out there.  
Neither wanted to think about when he might come back.


End file.
